


In Every Rumor, the Seed of Truth

by fyredancer



Category: Tokio Hotel
Genre: M/M, Recreational Drug Use, Twincest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-14
Updated: 2013-02-14
Packaged: 2017-11-29 07:47:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/684548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fyredancer/pseuds/fyredancer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tom parties it up in Taiwan with a hot piece of ass. ...Wait, just <i>one?</i></p><p>Whatever happens, it's all grist for the rumor mill, anyhow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Every Rumor, the Seed of Truth

**Author's Note:**

> Just a short little idea to put in your heads every time that damned article gets sold to ANOTHER news outlet.
> 
> Remember, kids, volare says a two-day erection would cause necrosis if you didn't visit the ER. And Bild is SO known for publishing No Lies, Ever.
> 
> Thanks to pseudoblu for the late-night looking-over.

"Ohh god, are you coming?" Bill moans, as Tom plows him forward with another powerful stroke.

"Are _you?_ " Tom counters, gripping his waist and giving Bill long, deep, maddeningly steady thrusts. He's been pumping Bill full of cock for about an hour now, following up with a vengeance on their standing promise to fuck at every single hotel they ever stay in, and Bill's knees are giving out.

"Dry, maybe," Bill gasps. His balls are tight, his ass is on fire, and yet the overall fantasticality that is Tom battering against his prostate with all the deliberation of a guided missile takes precedence over any discomfort. He's already come three times and they're still going, riding the sex-high that comes of uninhibited touch after a dry spell. Tom's milked him of all the release he's got but he's on the verge of another orgasm anyhow.

Tom shifts his grip to Bill's hips and manhandles him to a brutal angle, fucking down into him as he leans heavily enough to press Bill's raging hard-on into the tousled, sweaty sheets. "Come on, then," he grunts, quickening his pace until the wet smack of their fucking competes with Bill's constant moans and whimpers.

"Can't...just..." Bill pants, gathering fistfuls of sheets as he grinds his aching dick against the bed. "Need...more, something..."

Tom presses hard against him, bones of his pelvis imprinting on Bill's ass. He changes his grip again, bending Bill into a new, even steeper configuration that makes Bill cry out as Tom's cock takes center stage of his attention, inscribed so deep inside him he's sure he can taste it. Tom traces a hand down from his back over his shoulder, grips briefly at his jaw and slips a couple of fingers between Bill's parted lips.

With another frenzied moan, Bill clamps down on the intruding digits, lashing his tongue over calloused fingers. He tastes sweat and himself, from the demanding grip Tom had on his cock, and maybe a hint of lube and _Tom_ , scent thick in his nostrils as he draws another shuddering breath and hard flesh pistoning into him relentless against his spot and fingers digging bruises into one of his hips. Bill convulses and nips down on Tom's fingers, his hips inscribing helpless arcs as he orgasms again. His cock twitches weakly and he reaches for it with one hand, dropping onto his shoulder as he thumbs the head. There's barely a dribble.

"Tom, Tomi!" Bill cries out.

Tom is panting behind him as he continues to drill into Bill as though he's trying to tap a hidden recess of stamina for both of them. It's their fourth session of a long night and if he didn't already subsist off coffee and Red Bull and the fact that this much sex gives him a preternatural glow like nothing else Bill would push Tom off him and call it quits.

"Ahh god, what _are_ you?" Bill moans, cringing, when Tom flips him over and holds one of his thighs out and down, licking his lips as his eyes glitter down at Bill and he pushes into him again. He knows the answer; Tom's his own personal fuck machine, twenty and hot for him always, pent up at all times until he can give it to him during these stolen moments behind the scenes.

"Hot," Tom answers, his eyes barely lucid as he screws into Bill slowly now, not so fast now with back and forth but making him feel it, base to tip. "So hot for you, and you're burning up..."

Bill moans, reaches down to tangle Tom's nearest hand in a clinging grip, and flexes down on Tom's cock in rhythmic pulses. He tenses hard as he can, licking his lips. "You like my face?" he murmurs, pushing his hips up and enjoying the sensation of Tom going in and out, even though Bill's already done. "You want to come on it?" He pops his own finger into his mouth, withdraws it slow and glistening, and reaches down to pinch and play with his piercing.

Tom looks down at him, licking at his lips, and shudders deeply. He half-collapses over Bill, his own hips still drawing out his last few revolutions as he strives to prop himself even as he's falling.

Bill laughs, lifts his legs up to wrap around Tom and pulls him down, onto his side. "No more," he gasps out, still chuckling, pressing sated little kisses to every part of Tom that he can reach.

Tom laughs, a loud and joyous response, and rolls onto his back, disengaging their bodies with a squelch that makes Bill want to moan and beg for it again, even though they've just finished.

"You're such a teenage boy," Bill says, smacking his chest.

Tom grins over at him, smug. "You like it. Don't lie, you love that I can always get it up for you."

"Like you took a handful of Viagra," Bill returns, and dissolves into helpless chuckles against Tom's shoulder.

"As if I'd need it!" Tom says, widening his eyes. He's shaking his head, grinning, and they both laugh at the notion.

"You'd be hard for days," Bill responds, and moans a little at the thought. That thought is truly monstrous, yet fascinating in an abstract sort of way.

Tom leans over him, stroking a hand down his side before gripping one cheek, spreading it, and slipping a finger inside him. "Does that turn you on?" he whispers, and his tongue moves along his lip as the moan leaves Bill unbidden.

"Nooo," Bill draws out his denial, eyes fluttering. He can't even twitch, there's no way he's getting it up again. For at least twenty minutes. Maybe half an hour.

"Just think, it would be like a non-stop spree of fucking," Tom rasped, leaning in as though to kiss him again.

Bill can only snort in his face. "What do you consider this to be, a night of tender lovemaking?"

"You don't think it sounds sexy?" The finger dips into Bill and pulls a surprised moan out of him.

"I think it sounds like chafing," Bill replies, torn between squirming away, toward Tom, and pressing back for more of the finger that is clearly working at getting him interested in another round. "You'd have to be stupid crazy, thinking that a non-stop erection would be like some great thing for your lover. Your cock is designed for two things; sex and a nice refractory period intended for post come-down cuddles."

Tom takes the hint and nudges in for a kiss. "Too bad I can't brag about the non-stop fucking," he mourns. "You know, shooting the shit at an after-party or some other bullshit. How I went for six hours. Or, you know, maybe days."

Bill considers it, working an arm between their bodies to clasp around Tom, get them closer than sweat and afterglow. "You could," he said, and pauses. "But to make it plausible it would have to be, you know, some Taiwanese girl."

"Taiwanese?" Tom's brow furrows.

"We're in Taiwan," Bill has to remind him.

"Oh yeah."

Bill's drifting off in the superior haze of post-coital bliss when Tom mumbles against his neck, "Two girls."

"Hmm?" Bill rouses enough to prompt his twin.

"It would totally be two girls," Tom clarifies. "For my crazy Viagra sex party. You know, I'd need at least two if I had a hard-on that wouldn't quit."

"You already do have a hard-on that won't quit," Bill accuses, but he opts to poke Tom in the belly rather than the tender bits. They're both well-done for now. "Whatever, Tom, it's your party joke."

"You'll be my wing man, right, Bill? Backing me up on all that great sex I had in Taiwan?"

"I don't think that's what wing man means...and, no way," Bill says, reaching up to rub a hand over Tom's cornrows, now hoping he'll relax enough to take a nap, or a brief break...this time. His ass can only handle so much. "I'll be the one saying you were a fucking idiot for taking Viagra in the first place."

Tom's close to drowsing against his neck, lulled by the sure touch of Bill's nails over his scalp. "So long as...no one sells it to Bild..."

Bill shudders; because Bild has become the stuff of his nightmares. At least no one knows the particular truth at the heart of _this_ rumor Tom wants to start on the party circuit.

Or ever will.


End file.
